


Love is Paranoid

by BellaFuckingRockwell



Series: 10 Songfics Challenge - House [1]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: BDSM, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Greg House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaFuckingRockwell/pseuds/BellaFuckingRockwell
Summary: 18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ OR OTHERWISE INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT IF YOURE UNDER 18.Doing the 10 Fics/10 Songs challenge again, this time in the Houseverse. Playlist goes on shuffle and for the first ten songs that come up I write a short fic inspired by it.Fic 1: The Distillers - Love is ParanoidSummary: Wilson wishes everyone could see House the way he sees him.





	Love is Paranoid

Gregory House and character flaws seem to go together like Cheerios and milk. Wilson has heard it all: House is obnoxious, ornery, selfish, cold. They say his philosophy on life is take, take, take.

He wishes they could see how much he gives.

There's a solitary lamp on in House's living room, and their shadows loom against the opposing wall. Wilson likes it to be dark when they do this; likes the ambience. House had called it a cliché – a fucking cliché, actually, if he recalls correctly - but in these moments it doesn't matter what House thinks. All that matters is that he shuts up and does as he's told.

Wilson is shirtless, sitting on House's couch, clenching his teeth to stifle a groan of bliss as the man on his knees before him takes him into his mouth. House's lips are soft against his cock, the heat of his tongue on his shaft maddening; his eyes are only half open, but there's a softness to the the hint of them that Wilson can see, a tranquility that startled him at first, because House in everyday life is anything but tranquil. He doesn't know where House goes when they do this, but he knows that he loves to be the one to take him to that place. 

“You are hungry tonight,” Wilson murmurs, as House moans around his length. Hand on the back of his head, he pushes with the heel of his palm until he feels House's throat; hears that choked, wet little gagging sound. It's gorgeous, but he mustn't moan; mustn't show it. House needs to learn that he has to work hard to please him. 

So instead, he whispers, “keep going. Take it all the way down. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you?”

He takes House's shudder at his words as a firm yes. 

To Wilson, House will give and give. He lets Wilson cuff him to his bed and tease him to the point of insanity with his tongue, toys, his fingers, his only complaints soft whimpers when his pleas to cum are ignored. If Wilson wants to cane him, House quietly presents his ass and counts each stroke through stilted gasps without even being asked. When he's earned it, Wilson fucks him on his back, pinning him to the mattress by his arms and marvelling at how the man who won't take orders from anyone arches up against him and moans a choked “thank you, Sir” when he's finally permitted his release. 

Afterwards, Wilson wraps him up in bed and brings him a scotch. He necks it in one gulp and then undoes all of Wilson's fastidious tucking, wiggling around to lay his head in Wilson's lap, murmuring something that sounds a lot like “you're incredible” and nothing like the kind of thing House would say. 

Wilson just smiles and leans down, tasting the alcohol on House's lips as he kisses him softly, fingertips grazing the stubble on his jaw. How he wishes everyone could see House like this, sleepy, tender, doped up on the endorphins that he likes even better than his pills. How he wishes everyone could see how wrong they are about him.

Later, as they're falling asleep, House mutters something like, “you make the weirdest face when you cum.” But at least he squeezes his hand when he says it.

And Wilson just grins in the dark, pulling him closer. “Goodnight, asshole.”


End file.
